Time doesn't heal all wounds
by Profiling Hotly
Summary: Hotchniss. Post-ep for 11x19, set directly after the episode ended. How does Hotch deal with his conflicting emotions when the hot topic of the night is Emily's new beau? Please Read and Review
_**A/N: Please follow me on tumblr at profiling-hotly. I'm starting a new series where I pull apart every Criminal Minds episode that Emily is in from season 2-present. If you love reading Hotchniss, every episode will have a section dedicated to analysing their interaction. I'm hoping it'll inspire me to write more but also that it'll be enjoyable for you to read.**_

 _ **I hope you enjoy this one-shot. It's set directly at the end of episode 11x19. Some complicated emotions here. Please watch that episode for context.**_

 _This is dedicated to my lovely Nichole. You know who you are. Thanks for inspiring me to write well and to never give up._

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"I've got some time…? Really Aaron? That's the best you could say?"

The younger agent scowled as his arms crossed defensively over his chest. He refrained from responding, instead turning his gaze to the lights of the national mall as they diminished in the distance.

He didn't _need_ to be told.

He already knew he'd fucked up.

He had tried so hard.

And he was happy for her, truly.

The emotions _were_ genuinely there in his heart.

They just happened to coexist with many other, more conflicting ones.

But he did really want her to be happy.

And it was the first time he'd seen her smile that brightly since Doyle.

His ghost had _finally_ disappeared from her eyes. He could see the serenity and contentment in the depths of her midnight orbs.

She was finally settled.

And she'd made her peace.

Unfortunately, she's just managed to do that without him, on the other side of the pond.

"Aaron. You have to let it go. Don't ruin this for her. She's happy. The team is happy. After Morgan… they just… they need a good night."

"I smiled. I responded in all the right ways, as I'll continue to do for the remainder of the evening. Don't think I haven't seen you throughout this case. I know you've been watching me. You're looking for me to show any micro-expression of distress. Nobody else is. They're all distracted by the simple fact that she's here. You are the only one in danger of ruining this evening Dave."

His tone was clipped and defensive. It betrayed him, giving David Rossi the validation that his assertions were, as always, on point.

"She'll notice. This case had been haunting her and she's been preoccupied with catching the bastard, but now that it's done she's going to see through your bullshit Aaron. I will say this once and then I'll drop the issue, but mark my words. You need to pull your shit together and you need to do it fast."

* * *

How this always seemed to happen, she'd never be quite sure. But once again, just as countless times before, her and Hotch had ended up being the last ones at the bar.

It had been a fun night. The best time she'd had with the team in a long time.

But now as her time stateside was winding to a close and she found herself facing her biggest insecurity in returning, she wasn't quite sure of how she felt.

She didn't know whether this situation was something she'd been dreading or hoping for, but regardless it had eventuated and now she had to deal with it.

And with the tequila having had time to solidify in her veins, she'd decided she was going to grab the bull by the horns.

"You tried to tell me not to come," she accused, trying with everything she had in her to hide the hurt that threatened to surface.

His eyes watched the amber in his glass swirl, his gaze studiously avoiding hers as he contemplated his answer. He had to concentrate hard to keep his voice even. He knew she wouldn't be satisfied with his answer before the words had even fallen from his lips.

"We hadn't been invited in. It was risky."

"That's shit."

His head snapped up reflexively, unable to ignore the abruptness in her tone. He saw the anger etched in her face, but also the glimmers of hurt she was trying so hard to conceal.

"Em…"

"We agreed Hotch. Together. We talked and we decided together; we both have good lives now. Good lives in different places. We agreed we had to give ourselves a chance to live them."

He swallowed hard, his eyes falling back to his tumbler as he felt his heart physically clench in regret.

"I know."

Her face contorted into an ugly expression, frustration mixed with despair.

"So then why are you treating me like I've done something wrong? Why do I feel like I've betrayed you?"

She could feel her body physically shaking, the emotion and fatigue catching her off guard and engulfing her entirely. At some point she'd moved much closer to him, now standing just a breath beside where he sat. She knew he'd be able to feel the tension radiating off of her. And yet he still sat motionless, refusing to even glance in her direction, let alone refute her accusation.

After another thirty seconds of his silence she let out a fangled gasp of irritation and slammed her own glass down on the counter.

"You know what, just forget it. Give Jack a kiss for me."

She snatched up her purse and pushed her way through the sea of people that had piled into the now crowded bar. She could feel the sting of tears in her eyes and she hated herself for it.

She thought they had moved way beyond this.

He blinked stupidly; suddenly realising she was no longer beside him and swiftly pulled out a fifty-dollar bill, leaving it on the counter before rushing in a panic towards the exit.

He'd forgotten how fast she could be when properly motivated. His eyes scoured the busy street in alarm before spotting her shining black hair just rounding the corner.

He broke out into a jog, weaving through subsequently disgruntled people, his hand reaching out to grab her arm and pull her back toward him.

"I'm sorry," he murmured softly, his eyes falling to where his hand was on her arm.

He knew he needed to release her, for both their sakes, but he couldn't find the strength to do it.

Instead he used his strength against her, pulling her into him. She struggled against him, swearing under her breath. But he simply twisted her arm in order to lock her right against his chest, his other hand sneaking around her waist, pushing her into him.

He wasn't hurting her, he never could. But he knew she wouldn't be able to manipulate herself out of his hold.

And as soon as she came to realise this fact she relented and simply looked up at him, her eyes betraying her exhaustion.

"Aaron" she pleaded softly.

A spark of anguish alit in his heart at the sound of his given name falling from her mouth. It stirred up a pool of long dormant emotions, memories he'd tried so hard to forget.

He looked away regretfully, his fingers unconsciously digging into her flesh. He knew he needed to be honest. He needed to stop being such a coward.

"I didn't think it would be this hard. I… I didn't expect it to hurt this much" he confessed, his words so quiet they were almost lost in the bustle of the passing traffic.

She blinked in slight disbelief as his words sunk in. His candour was unexpected. She'd thought she'd have to fight him harder to get any real expression of emotion from him.

Unconsciously her body buried closer into his own, seeking to give him comfort.

A part of her mind was screaming at her, reminding her that they were on dangerous ground.

But her response to his pain was instinctive.

And one she could never fight.

" _I'm_ sorry," she whispered, her head ducking just enough to catch his eyes.

Her voice was shaken, it sounded almost broken to Aaron's ears. And that was something he could not allow, regardless of his own turmoil.

Over the past twenty-four hours he'd seen a peace in her that had been missing for a very, very long time.

He wasn't going to be the one to take that away.

His eyes focused in on her own, burning with intensity, panic-stricken.

"No, sweetheart. No… you, I… you…"

He let go of his grip on her, releasing her enough to face her square on.

He brushed a loose strand of hair out of her eyes, his fingers lingering for a moment before they fell away.

"You have nothing to be sorry about. I want you to be happy, truly… you must know that. I just… I didn't know I'd feel this way when you finally… when you…"

She pushed her body back into his, her arms snaking around his waist, holding him as tightly as she could while her cheek lay flat against his chest.

A few silent tears started to stream down her face as she listened to him stammer.

He was always so confidently spoken. Eloquent. A trained prosecutor, she could only count on one hand the amount of times she'd seen him unable to articulate his thoughts.

"Take me home with you"

"No."

His head was shaking as his hands ran up to her shoulders; his own watering eyes firm as they took in her tormented face.

"Aaron."

Her expression hardened slightly as wrestled between her guilt and her agony.

"No."

"Please… just, just to talk."

He stayed silent for a moment, his hand pulling away to run through his hair as he tried to fight against the emotion that was threatening to overtake every ounce of reason in his mind.

"It's always just to talk sweetheart" he finally replied, ignoring the ache in his heart as he forced himself to deny them the night she was offering, the night he really wanted.

She looked up at him, her tears evolving into fully-fledged sobs, as he reminded her once again why she loved him.

Of how deeply he truly loved her.

Even after all this time.

Hotch rubbed his eyes angrily as he felt the pressure of tears starting to mount, willing them away he pulled her into his arms, as they both, once again, mourned the life together they would never had the chance to live.

They stayed that way for a long time, standing together on the side of the road in the middle of a busy DC street. People and cars speeding around them completely forgotten as they clung to eachother.

When Emily's crying eventually began to subside he finally found the strength to pull himself away.

His hands cupped her face, thumbs gently brushing away the last drips of leaking tears. Regret etched deeply in the lines of his face as he took her in. His fingers absently tracing the lines of her own before he leaned forward and placed the gentlest of kisses on her forehead.

He'd thought this was supposed to get easier. And yet every time she came back, every time they had this conversation, every time they said goodbye, it only got harder.

The pain always seemed to permeate him in a new, excruciating way.

"Let's get you to JJ's" he murmured with finality.

She nodded softly in defeat, his selfless act of love having placed a stifling weight on her heart.

She had no energy left to fight.

She was done.

"Okay."

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 _ **A/N: Please if you enjoy this leave a**_ _ **review**_ _ **. Even if it wasn't your cup of tea, tell me why. Nobody likes asking for reviews but honestly they're so motivating when writing and really helpful. Thanks heaps guys and please remember to follow me on tumblr (see note at the beginning).**_

 _ **Love and peace xx**_


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